


Broken Rules

by Osaka_Prince_Yuta



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: All xiaojun wants, Hendery part, M/M, Mention of Starvation, Mention of abuse, Minor Character Death, Sexuality Issues, Sweet Hendery, Xiaojun is sad, historical fiction - Freeform, is a cake for his birthday, mention of possible character death, mention of prostitution, victorian london
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osaka_Prince_Yuta/pseuds/Osaka_Prince_Yuta
Summary: Hendery is a rich boy living in Victorian England with his elder sister and a big secret. Xiaojun is a homeless prostitute who only wants one thing that was cruelly taken from him.Both boys battle the same war. Homosexuality.When they find each other in XIaojun's desperate flee of gallows, Hendery has to decide whether to admit to his own sexuality, or to stay safely guarded from the pretty boy who needs a place to stay.
Relationships: Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	1. Part One - Hendery

**Author's Note:**

> I got as historically accurate as possible. The theme is pretty heavy. 
> 
> As are most of my stories, this is posted on Amino and it has been beta read.

Purple and pink hues cast pigments through broad windows of the large dark house, illuminating the walls in magnificent colors that painted the walls beautifully. Pigment swirled around the walls as the sun moved further down the horizon, colors splaying off glass tables and bouncing off plush couches. 

Kunhang sat at his table, candlelight flickering over the pages of his parchment as he watched the colors. 

“Brother?” his sister called out from somewhere in the house. 

“In the parlor!” he responded, not taking his eyes off the wall.

He heard heels move down one of the staircases in the large house before her frame appeared around the corner in a simple yellow dress without the common hoop or corset. 

“You’re not going out like that, are you?” he asked, glancing back down at the blank parchment he’d meant to already have words on. 

“Of course not!” she chided, moving closer. “I just bought it! What do you think!?” she asked, twirling around. 

He glanced up to watch her twirl. 

“It’s beautiful! What’s the occasion?” he asked. 

He pushed the wooden chair back away from the table and stood. 

Although the girl was three years older, she still had a certain girlishness that made her appear younger. At least when compared to Kunhang. 

“It’s our anniversary next week! We’re going out to the town! I wanted to do something different!”

Kunhang’s face fell slightly. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. 

~

When the opportunity to leave China in favor of studying in London came around, both had jumped. Their elder sisters would be married off to wealthy men in China, but Kunhang and Joonah were both relatively young and seeking higher education. 

At least Kunhang was. 

Joonah, although ineligible to get a proper education, decided to leave London with the promise to her father of finding a wealthy Englishman to marry. 

She had no such desire or plans. 

Delighted that two of his children sought money and power the same way their father had, Kunhang was given a large amount of money to buy a home for the two.

~

Joonah frowned at his statement and the expression made Kunhang want to immediately take it back, but he couldn’t. Nor could he change the silly laws. 

“I don’t care. We always have to hide! Never are we able to kiss or hold hands in public!” she whined. 

Kunhang raised an eyebrow. 

“You shouldn’t be kissing in public anyways! Such indecency should be kept in the confines of a home!”

“Ok fine, but still! I should be able to date whoever I want! These laws are pointless! People do it anyways!” 

Kunhang nodded. He understood. He thought the laws were pointless as well, especially the silly repercussions. Those laws wouldn’t change anytime soon, though. Not with the majority support of the public that just loved to condemn someone to death just because they like a member of the same sex. 

“I love her brother. I want to marry her.”

Such dangerous feelings. He so desperately wanted to be happy for her, but how could he. If their father learned of this, Joonah would immediately be brought back to China and married off to the first bachelor he could find where she would be forced into doing her wifely duties and bearing children for her husband. 

“You know that’s not an option,” he pointed out. 

She nodded and pulled out a chair, flopping down onto the wood. 

“I can’t help how I feel..”

The last thing Kunhang wanted was to make her feel as though he were judging her or attempting to force her to change her feelings like everyone else in their lives tried to do. 

“Just be careful. We both know how dangerous they are. Only recently have they stopped hanging the ones they find. I have no doubt that they’d find some reason to hang you. That’s the last thing I want for my big sister,” he said, pulling out the pout he knew she couldn’t resist. 

Joonah sighed. 

“Fine. I love you brother,” she spoke. 

She got up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Now go finish getting dressed for your date! Just make sure you come back here if you want to do all that coupley stuff.”

Joonah nodded eagerly and bounced off the chair. Hastily, she pushed it back under the table and bounded back up the stairs. 

Kunhang turned back to the parchment he had been writing on, the letter to his father only half finished, but the light of the day was turning dark and the lantern light would be better used for something else. 

He got up off the chair, back aching from the hard wood he’d been resting on for so long. He pushed the chair back under the table and moved into the grand living room lit by a candle chandelier. 

He flopped down on one of the plush couches and propped his feet up on the coffee table, despite the constant scolding he’d get from Joonah.

“I’m leaving brother! I’ll be back in the morning!” Joonah called from the door. 

“Be safe!” Kunhang called back. 

He listened as the door opened and shut behind the girl and he sent out silent hopes that no one discovered her true relations with Virginia Maud. 

_~ (Long Time Skip)_

The evening was going by slowly. The air outside was beginning to get a little colder and it wouldn’t take long for that cold to seep indoors. He stacked a bit of wood out of the covered back porch, careful not to drag much dirt and wood chips into the house for Joonah to clean up tomorrow. She’d not be very pleased about that. Carefully, he placed the wood into the fireplace in the center of the living room wall and lit a match. After sending it into the pit, it didn’t take long for fire to catch. 

Once that was finished, he leaned back on the plush white couch with golden embroidery and closed his eyes. He should finish his letter home. His father would be wondering what had become of the two. That didn’t mean he wanted to write a letter. One that would be yet another lie about his sister's budding romance with a wealthy man named Virgil and the beautiful girls his son had been on many dates with. Father would never approve of the truth and might wish to see his own disgraceful children hanged for their disgusting tendencies. 

He’d get to his letter writing later. First, he’d find something more useful to do, like reading from his Latin school books. 

He plucked the top book off the table and quickly found his page marker. He flipped to the leafy parchment and brought the lantern closer to view the pages. The words scrawled on the pages made very little sense to him. He’d spent so long learning English when he was younger that learning Latin now was proving a difficult task. It was still better than writing to Father, though. 

He hadn’t gotten far into reading the pages when there was a single loud knock resounding through the house and he glanced up in confusion toward the front room. The city itself was a nice distance away. Close enough that he could see the buildings and sometimes the people, but far enough away that he didn’t get many visitors. 

He preferred it like that. The fewer visitors he had, the fewer people he had to turn away when fathers brought their blushing daughters to his door and begged him to accept them. He never did. He’d never been much interested in girls, something disgraceful... and illegal. Something people were constantly hanged over or, at the very least, thrown into prison for. 

He doubted he’d be thrown in prison, unless his father caught wind of the ordeal. Then he surely would be, and no money in the world would rescue him from the same fate countless other men and women had suffered at the hands of a cruel government. 

Kunhang didn’t like visitors. Even less when they were young boys around his own age that he could see himself with. Then it was often a struggle not to make a pass at them, and that would get him in even more trouble. 

He got up off the couch and slowly made his way to the door. Oh how he hoped it would be a late letter arriving or some old stubby man asking him to come to church. 

The door swung open as he pulled the handle and his heart immediately dropped to his throat. Standing on the porch fidgeting with his dirty sleeve, was a small male he’d never seen before, and perhaps the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his entire life.

The male was shorter. Much shorter than most men living around here and very obviously not English born. His skin was the same, darker shade as Kunhang’s, although his face was hidden behind a thick layer of dust. His clothes were torn and dirty, at least, what little amount of clothing was left was dirty. He looked like he’d crawled out from under a house where his clothes had been gnawed away at for years. And for all Kunhang knew, that’s exactly where he came from. 

“Can I help you?” he tried to keep his voice from wavering. 

The last thing he needed was for this male to even think he liked him. 

“Um… I…” a bird flew out from the tops of the porch roof, rattling a few boards and letting out a loud chirp when it did so; noises that made the male jump, letting out a nervous squeak, body trembling. 

The boy was obviously terrified about something, and with the way he was dressed, Kunhang wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d come straight from a prostitution house. 

“Would you like to come inside?” 

The male's gaze drifted away, shifting around as if to check the perimeter for anyone before nodding. 

So the male was most likely running from someone. 

Kunhang opened the door wider and stepped out of the way, making room for the stranger to step inside. 

Maybe he wasn’t being cautious enough, but this male didn’t seem like someone to hurt him. He seemed more like an injured deer running from hunters in the forest than a preditor seeking to murder and rob Kunhang.

The male timidly walked over the threshold into the now poorly lit house now that the sun had settled almost completely behind the horizon. 

“Um… I’m Kunhang.”

The greeting was awkward, but the light flash of ease across the males face didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Dejun…”

The voice was so soft Kunhang was scant sure he’d heard it. 

“Well Dejun, I’d offer you a place to sit, but my sister would murder us both if I allowed her finely dusted furniture to get dirty. Would you like to take a bath? I have some clothes you can change into?”

Maybe it was an odd question to ask a total stranger, but this male looked scared, cold, and like he hadn’t had a bath in a month. He was sure the male would at least like a new set of clothing to replace the rags he’d been reduced to. 

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble?” he asked. 

Kunhang shook his head, a small smile falling onto his lips. 

“Follow me.”

With that, Kunhang led Dejun up the grand staircase to the second floor. The hallway was large, filled with more doors than he or his sister knew what to do with. He walked down the hallway, passing several of those doors that led into empty rooms, or the room they’d set up for bedrooms, although no one ever slept over besides his sister's girlfriend.

The fifth door on the left led into the bathroom. Kunhang opened the door and stepped inside with the traveling candle in his hand. Usually, he and Joonah preferred to take showers during the day when sunlight would spill through the window and brighten the lightly colored room, but such a luxury was currently not an option. He didn’t want to wait until morning to allow the male to get cleaned, so he moved around the quite large room, lighting the candles. He had several to light the room. A few hanging from the ceiling, several lining the sides of the sink, three in the window seal, enough to give the room a decent amount of light. 

“I apologize, the water might be slightly warm, but it isn’t going to be as warm as it’d be during the day. I don’t have anything to warm it with,” he apologized. 

Dejun bowed in response and Kunhang took that as his queue to leave. 

“I’ll leave some clothes on the floor outside the door. There are some towels in the cabinet by your hand. I’ll be downstairs.”

With the final words, he closed the door and made his way back down the familiar steps of the house, leaving his moving candle in the bathroom for Dejun to use to get back with. 

He stepped into the parlor to light another carrying candle before moving into the kitchen. There was no point looking over his books now. He wouldn’t be able to see well enough in the darkening house. It’d have to wait until morning. 

He lit a match with his candle and opened the wood stove. He hadn’t planned on making anything much for dinner. Maybe having a piece of bread and a bit of the pork his sister had made for lunch, but there wasn’t enough pork or bread for two to share and he doubted the boy in his bathroom had had a warm meal in a while. 

Kunhang didn’t know how to cook much. That was mainly his sister's job. He studied and stocked their stove with wood, but that was about it. He did, however, know how to make a vegetable soup his mother had made several times during the cold winters in China. 

He placed a large pot on the heating stove and filled it with water. While that was heating, he poured in a bit of the brothy grease the pork had been cooked in and dunked in corn, carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and celery that they had grown in the garden the last season. 

He waited for the liquid to boil, stirring the brownish colored soup with a wooden spoon ever so often. 

It didn’t take long for Dejun to return. Hendery expected it wouldn’t. Baths were nice when there was a way to heat the water, when the sun had been warming the well water all day, but at night, after the sun had set, that water would turn cold quickly. 

Kunhang peaked out from the kitchen upon hearing the stairs creak under the weight of the boy that now stood in the parlor. He was about to call out to him to inform him of his location when he watched the male bring a hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes. Kunhang couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but it looked an awful lot like he was crying. 

Now, Kunhang had a weak spot for cute boys, but his heart ached for cute boys that had clearly been through Hell. He cast the cooking pot on the stove another glance as if to warn it not to cook too quickly before quietly moving into the parlor. 

The floors creaked slightly, alerting the male of the entrance. He straightened his back and let his hand fall to his side although that didn’t stop the quiet sniffling. 

“What’s wrong?” Kunhang asked gently. 

Dejun shook his head. Kunhang didn't know why, but he couldn’t accept this. The male just looked so small and fragile, like he’d been beaten by the world, and Hendery couldn’t let someone so beautiful feel that they had to cry silently in a dark room. 

“You can tell me,” he encouraged, hoping it would be enough to get the male to talk. 

The room was silent save for Dejun’s sniffles and Hendery knew immediately this was something big, something was really hurting this male. He didn’t know how he knew or why, he could just feel it. 

Gently, so as not to frighten the male, he wrapped a hand around Dejun’s arm tugging him lightly over to the soft white couch. He motioned for him to sit, as his own butt hit the cushions. Dejun was a little reluctant, but eventually sat beside him. 

It was probably the wrong move, especially in such a fragile moment, but Kunhang ran a hand up Dejun’s back, a hand that was so much different than the warming touch of a friend, but Dejun’s response made Kunhang smile for a short moment until their reality crashed back onto him. 

“I… I was saving up for… something. I have a special job… that I get paid for if I complete my services correctly and… I was saving that money… but she made me give her all of it… because I was late,” as he finished, tears began flowing freely out of the male's eyes and Kunhang could not bear it. 

He pulled the complete stranger into his arms, holding him tight, comfortingly, rubbing his back in soothing circles as the male buried his face in the itchy cloth of Kunhang’s shirt. 

The tears lasted for several minutes, but when Dejun finally calmed down, he had several questions. 

“Who made you give her all of your money?” he asked. 

Dejun sniffled against his shoulder. 

“Madam Ponseur.” 

That was the only answer Kunhang needed to hear to understand the type of “work” Dejun had been doing. Work that made his arms tighten protectively around the male he barely knew. 

“I was saving that money for something special…” Dejun whimpered. 

His dejected voice broke Hendery’s heart in two. 

“What were you saving up for?”

There was silence for a moment and then tears slid into the fabric of Kunhang’s shirt again. Dejun whimpered quietly and Kunhang rubbed his back gently. 

“I’ve… never had a cake before… I wanted to buy myself a birthday cake… just this once… but it’s tomorrow and I have… no money…” Dejun broke down into sobs again, body trembling against Kunhang’s shoulder as the male held him. 

He couldn’t even imagine. Even when he and his sister moved to London, they still bought each other cakes for their birthdays and received letters from their families. Not having that must have hurt. And having a chance but finding it cruelly ripped away would be the awfullest feeling in the world. 

But at least Kunhang could wish him a happy birthday in the morning. Maybe the first one he’d ever heard. 

He stroked Dejun’s back softly, attempting to calm him down until he heard the unmistakable sizzle of hot water being splashed onto a hot surface. 

“Come on, I think dinner is ready,” he encouraged. 

Dejun didn’t move at first, but it seemed the promise of warm food he didn’t have to pay for eventually won out. 

Kunhang turned the stove off and grabbed two bowls. He poured the soup into each bowl and placed the bowl and a soup spoon on the table for both of them. 

Dejun hungrily began eating and one more thing became obvious. 

Saving money for a cake meant not eating for a week.

~

Dinner was pretty silent as the two ate the soup together. Kunhang had given Dejun the last piece of bread to dip in his soup; something so small to Kunhang nearly brought tears to Dejun’s eyes. 

This boy was beautiful and mistreated. Wronged in so many ways by the world. 

“How did you end up in London?” Kunhang asked as they sat on the plush couch after dinner.

Kunhang’s arm was thrown over Dejun’s shoulders and Dejun was leaning against him slightly. 

“I was born in the orphanage. I am not really sure how I ended up in London. I was just told my mother died in childbirth,” he explained. 

Kunhang’s heart dropped. The orphanages were something to laugh at. Abusive, neglectful, and eager to kick out those who never get adopted. 

“No one wanted a Chinese baby. I grew up in the orphanage. When I was 18, they kicked me out…” Dejun continued. 

Kunhang sighed and pulled Dejun a little closer, rubbing his shoulder with his hand. The male reacted almost instantly, leaning closer to Kunhang and letting out a small sigh, eyes closing slowly. 

Neither said anything for a moment, although Kunhang’s mind was racing. This male was giving him many mixed signals. Signals that would suggest being into guys, but at the same time, Kunhang couldn’t be completely sure. He didn’t want to out himself to the male he barely knew and risk getting thrown into jail or hanged, but he also felt such a strong connection to the male. 

“How did you work?” he asked. 

If he did the kind of work Kunhang thought he did, the male was definitely into guys and he’d also get an explanation as to why Dejun had showed up on his doorstep like a terrified deer. 

Kunhang felt Dejun stiffen against him. 

“I uh…” Dejun paused, face going red as he stared down at his lap. “P-prostitute,” he mumbled.

Exactly what Kunhang was afraid of. He tightened his hold around Dejun, running a gentle hand up and down the male's arm to comfort him. 

“Is that why you showed up here?”

Dejun didn’t respond for a minute. Kunhang knew he was asking some tricky questions. He just had to know the answer. 

“My last client told them… that we’d… um… done it… and my last client was… a guy…”

The only question Kunhang needed answered. The only piece of information to let his own walls crumble. He shifted around slightly to see Dejun’s face before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“They’ll not find you here.”

~

That night was the first night the bedroom beside Kunhang’s was occupied. And the next morning, while his guest slept in, Kunhang went out on a mission. 

He didn’t bother leaving a note for Joonah or for his guest. He would be gone two hours at the most and Joonah likely wouldn’t be home until well after noon. 

The morning sun was just rising in the east when Kunhang was pulling on a pair of slacks and a white shirt. He never was one for sleeping in. There was always too much to do and too little time to do it when they didn’t have to worry about lighting candles to see. 

He pulled on his common black coat, fastening the buckle tightly around his waist before quietly moving down the steps of the grand staircase. 

Dejun had looked all too tired the night before and when he’d seen the bed he’d get to himself, he’d almost cried. Kunhang doubted he’d slept in a bed since he was in the orphanage. He’d probably never slept in a good bed though. 

The last thing Kunhang wanted to do was wake him. Not only could he not bear to wake the beautiful man that so desperately needed sleep, he had a few surprises up his sleeve. 

He found his brown buckle shoes by the door and slid his feet into them. 

Without another moment, he was out the door. 

It was one of those unusually bright days out. The sky wasn’t overcast. There was hardly a cloud in the sky today. The sun stood out, brightening the day, bringing a smile to his lips as he set out for the city. 

It never was a long walk and he didn’t live far enough away to usually warrant a cart or a horse. While he and his sister owned a single horse, she had taken it to the other side of town to meet her girlfriend. 

It would be hard to carry his goodies home on a horse anyway. 

~

The walk into town was as usual, uneventful. He caught the eye of the occasional older gentleman who grinned and bowed, probably making plans to bring his daughter to Kunhang’s door later. Politely, Kunhang bowed back and kept on moving. 

His first stop was at the clothing store he usually frequented. 

Upon opening the door, the same middle aged gentleman greeted him. 

Although Kunhang didn’t visit the store very often, the man always seemed to recognize him, although Kunhang could never be sure if it was because he was rich or if he recognized everyone. 

“Welcome back Mr. Wong! How can I help you today?” the man asked. 

“My little brother has come for a visit. I was hoping to get him a few things while he’s staying with us. Something smaller in the waist and shorter in the length.”

The man nodded and immediately began weaving through messily strewn piles of brown clothing. 

“What sort of clothing, sir?”

“Something similar to my style. Slacks, dressy shirts, and a buckle coat as well if you have one to fit him,” Kunhang specified. 

He wasn’t sure how long Dejun would want to stay. He didn’t want to force him to stay longer than he wanted. He’d promised him long enough for the mob to forget about him. Kunhang wouldn’t mind his permanent residence inside the house, but he wouldn’t force him. And either way, he needed some new clothes of his own. He couldn’t keep wearing Kunhang’s too large clothing, especially if they went out for a day, and if he chose not to stay, the least Kunhang could do was cloth him in something decent.

“How about this?”

Kunhang walked over to inspect the clothing the owner had picked out, smiling at the style. 

It wasn’t exactly like Kunhang’s usual style. The top was white and frilly around the collar and sleeves, something that strangely seemed to fit the male back at his home. The slacks were tailored to fit snugly around the frame but to hang loose down the knees and the coat was a lightly colored beige that would hang low down Dejun’s back, stopping at the tops of his thighs likely and instead of a buckle, there were buttons to fasten it together. 

“I’ll take it!” he declared, smile crawling up his face. 

At the very least, Dejun would be warm as London grew colder. 

“I’ll wrap these up for you.”

He moved back to the counter to wrap the clothes and this time, Kunhang followed, opening his coin pouch. He pulled out three of the golden pieces and placed them on the counter as the male slid the now wrapped clothing over to Kunhang. 

“Keep the change as a tip for being so wonderfully helpful!”

With that, Kunhang grabbed the wrapped clothing and waved to the owner before disappearing back into the streets of London, the streets that were not becoming awake as the sun rose higher. 

His next stop wouldn’t be far away and then he’d be making the walk home.

~

The door to the bakery rattled as it closed and the owner looked up. The owner was an older man with small tufts of white hair on top of his balding head. He wore simple white clothing and an apron, both of which were already coated in flour and dough. 

“Good morning! How can I help you?” the male asked. 

“I’d like a cake and two loafs of bread.”

The male nodded and moved around to the back of the bakery where Kunhang couldn’t see him. He was only gone for a moment before popping back out with a large circular cake and two hearty loaves. 

“Will these meet your needs?”

The cake was a plainly colored white cake with small candy beads of colored chocolate dollops. A blue ribbon was tied in an elegant bow around it. It looked perfect. 

“How much?”

“5 pounds.”

Kunhang placed 5 pieces on the counter and the baker carefully slid the cake into a large white box and wrapped the bread in packages. 

“Come see us again!” he called as Kunhang was headed out the door. 

Carrying several packages proved to be slightly tricky as he made his way through the streets of London, dodging people as he went, but it was all worth it, especially when he’d get to see Dejun’s face light up when he realized he was going to have a cake after all this year. 

His first cake, 

That still broke Kunhang’s heart to think about. 

~

Kunhang kicked the door open quietly, juggling the packages in his arms as he entered the house. He kicked it shut behind him and made his way into the kitchen. 

He placed the cake down immediately on the table so he wouldn’t drop it now that he was home, something that was likely to happen with his inherent clumsiness. 

He placed the bread on the counter to be put away later and carried the package of clothes into the parlor. He placed them on his desk table near the forgotten letter from the night before and sat down on the couch. 

He was excited and anxious for Dejun to wake up. He wondered if the male would remember much of what happened the night before or if he’d been too tired and delirious. He hoped the male would remember. It would certainly be an evening that Kunhang himself would remember forever. 

He didn’t have to wait long for Dejun to wake up. A few moments later and the stairs creaked under the weight of the male. Kunhang looked up anxiously. Had he been a dog, his tail would have been wagging like crazy. 

Dejun’s feet hit the floor and he moved around the corner, coming into view of the parlor. Kunhang’s heartbeat sped up instantly at the adorable sight. 

The male wore the same sleepwear that Kunhang had loaned him the night before. A large shirt that was much too large for Kunhang, was even larger on Dejun, the fabric coming to rest at the tops of his thighs. His legs were covered in a pair of thick gray pants that hung low on his hips, a pair that he seemed to have to pull up every so often. His hair was in disarray, part of it clinging to his face while various other strands stood up in all directions.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. 

His eyes drooped slightly as he made his way to the couch, crashing down on it beside Kunhang and resting his head on the stranger's shoulder. 

Kunhang couldn’t wait for him to fully wake up though. His excitement was too strong. 

“I have something to show you!” he declared. 

He got a groan in response. 

“Come on! You’re going to want to see it! It’s in the kitchen!” he got up off the couch and Dejun’s face hit the cushions where he’d been sitting. 

Slowly, the smaller male climbed off the couch, sleepily coming to stand. Kunhang knew he’d be more excited if he wasn’t so upset about the birthday cake fiasco. Good thing there was a good way to fix that. 

Grabbing Dejun’s hand, Kunhang led the male into the kitchen. 

“Now close your eyes!” Kunhang ordered cheesily, giving the male a grin. 

Although Kunhang didn’t miss the eye roll, Dejun closed his eyes. Kunhang lifted the lid on the cake and smiled at the cake once more. 

“Ok, you can look!”

He watched Dejun open his eyes. He watched those same curious eyes trail over the table and come to stop on the cake box. He watched them fill with tears that eventually began trailing down his cheeks. 

“Oh my God!” he cried, burying his face in his hands. 

Kunhang’s face fell at the reaction. He was expecting a hug, not tears. 

“I’m sorry, don’t you like it? I can take it back and get you another,” he offered, feeling slightly dejected. 

“No! Don’t take it back, I love it! I just… wasn’t expecting this!” Dejun said, eyes still brimming with tears but a bright smile on his face. 

“My first birthday cake I…” 

He threw his arms around Kunhang’s neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Although a little shocked at first, Kunhang wrapped his arms around the male's waist, holding him closer. 

“Happy birthday,” he whispered in the male's ear. 

_To be continued..._

  
  



	2. Part Two - XiaoJun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xiaojun is a homeless prostitute living in London in the 1800s/ His life is rough, especially considering he is always running from the police that seek to kill anyone that dare like a member of the same sex.   
> Xiaojun's fate changes the day he is chased away by an angry mob and he ends up seeking refuge in Hendery's home. Little did he know at the time that Hendery was not only the kindest man Xiaojun had ever met, but he, too, was breaking the law against homosexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xiaojun's perspective of Part One, plus the ending of the story, maybe.

Pink and purple hues cast over dirty London streets as men hurried home from work to their families, awaiting warm meals and clean houses from their wives. 

Everyday was the same. Wealthy married men hurrying home to their wives. Unmarried men seeking a wife to marry and make a housewife out of her. 

Those that didn’t care for that kind of life judged, but eventually left alone to their own devices, society becoming unamused and uncaring of what they spent their time doing. 

Unless of course, the unmarried were interested in members of the opposite sex instead of the correct way to love someone. Then society cared. They cared enough to utterly despise those individuals. Or maybe they feared them. 

Homosexuals were so despised that they were spied on in the security of their own homes. Of the places that were meant to be safe. Places that were safe for everyone unless two members of the opposite sex were engaging in activities only married and heterosexual individuals had the pleasure of enjoying. Then, when they were caught, the involved parties would get the noose as their partner watched gravely before their own turn. 

At least, that was once the law. 

Now, they were thrown in jail and mocked. Cast away in an iron cage until the life left their eyes. 

Unless, of course, those people belonged to certain other illegal activities. 

Prostitution was a common thing, no matter how much people would argue differently. Most of the ones who argued were usually guilty of it, on one end or other. 

Especially homosexual prostitution. 

Citizens too scared of the law to admit their gender preferences were married unhappily and often snuck off to fulfill their own desires with a “filthy street rat.”

~

Dejun crawled beneath the battered wall of the brothel house, his tattered and skimpy clothing getting even more dirty from the muddy streets. 

“You’re late!” Madam Ponseur snapped at the male. 

Madam Ponseur was a large breasted woman with thick cheeks, hawk eyes, and hair that always seemed to be pinned in a sloppy bun. She always wore a short, low cut dress that stopped above her knees and leather boots one of her customers had gifted her long ago. She easily stood a foot taller than Dejun and, if he wasn’t vastly intimidated by her already, that did it. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bell wanted extras,” his voice was small. 

She scoffed and turned around, black hair swaying as she moved. 

“Did he pay extra?” she hissed, making her way to the money jar.

Living at the brothel was a privilege for most. Dejun himself had had nowhere to live ever since he was kicked out of the orphanage. He’d spent a year living on the street, begging people for money or food, in which most usually scoffed at. There were a few who took pity on him. 

Shortly after his 19th birthday, a sweet girl he’d seen a few times had taken pity on him. She’d taken him to the brothel house where he eventually confessed to being interested in men. He expected to be given to the police and hanged. At the time, it would have been a pity kill. Better than slowly starving to death. 

The head of house had been delighted to learn this, and that same day, he was given his first customer. By the afternoon, he finally had a home. A home in which he’d made several friends. However, nothing was ever free. 

Half of his payment after each customer was considered his rent, and if he didn’t make at least 5 coins a day, he would risk losing his precious space. 

It wasn’t a wonderful job, but it kept him off the streets with food in his stomach.

Dejun followed Madam Ponseur to the jar and pulled the payment from his pockets. He counted out half before shoving the rest in his pocket and his payment into the jar. 

“Looks like you’re short,” Madam Ponseur hissed. 

He glanced at the jar with his name written on the side. He was short. A few coins short. But he couldn’t give any more of his money. 

“So you have two choices. Give us more money or sleep on the streets.”

He hadn’t eaten yet. He actually hadn’t eaten in several days as he saved up for a cake on Birmingham street for his birthday the next day. 

“I-I can’t pay anymore,” he stammered. 

Tears welled in his eyes. He’d never had a cake before. Never one that was meant for himself. He may even have enough for a candle! He had just enough! But if he gave coins to her now, he’d never get the cake he so desired. 

“Get out,” Madam Ponseur snapped. 

Her face grew flushed in anger as her hawk eyes bored holes through Dejun’s skull. 

He turned around. The last thing he wanted or needed was an angry Madam Ponseur on his hands. She wasn’t the head of the brothel, but she was in charge when the head wasn’t there. 

He crawled back through the same hole in the wall. 

Hyde Avenue was a narrow alley street surrounded by smelly garbage cans and cracked windows. The walls of the buildings were tall with cracked gray foundation and ripped banisters making a feeble attempt at keeping rain off the streets and out of the garbage cans. The street was flooded every time it rained heavily. The brothel was at the end of the alley, the hole in the wall emptying out right at the edge and the corner of the building began the Tenor Street alley. 

No one except those who resided on the street knew the brothel existed. Unless, of course, they were told about it by someone else, so crawling through the wall was the safest way to ensure no one knew of the place. 

Of course, this didn’t stop foot traffic from walking up and down the avenue looking for something they would never find. 

“And you’re sure he lived here?” 

Dejun quickly moved off the wall and hid around the corner, out of sight as two sets of footsteps walked down the alley heading straight for Dejun’s corner. 

“Yes. As soon as we finished uh… ya know… he ran this way!” that voice was too familiar. 

As the two came around the side of the building, into Dejun’s view, he knew why. 

Mr. Bell was an old widowed gentleman with children long grown. He had a head of course white hair, a chubby face, and a wide body. He wore baggy trousers and a too tight shirt. 

Dejun was stunned as he saw them. Mr. Bell’s hands were cuffed in dingy chains that he held in front of him. 

“What was his name again?” the officer asked. 

Dejun’s heart dropped. Mr. Bell was a regular customer and someone he rather liked. The man, in his old age, was rather gentle with the much younger male. Something that was a rare occurrence. 

“Dejun Xiao.”

“Do you know where he lives for sure?” the officer asked. 

Was Mr. Bell seriously going to rat him out? Dejun leaned forward to gape at the two. Out of all people, he thought his secret would be safe with Mr. Bell. 

“Not exactly. I know he lives on this alley though! Maybe it’s-” Mr. Bell paused to look around and Dejun didn’t have a chance to hide himself back around the corner before the old man’s eyes widened with sorrow as if to silently apologize to the young male. 

“He’s there!” he declared pointing. 

The officer turned around, face reddening at the sight of the poorly dressed male. 

“You’re under arrest for the act of prostitution and homosexuality!” he bellowed. 

His voice caught the attention of street walkers heading home from the market or work. Dejun’s cheeks lit ablaze at the unwanted attention of onlookers. 

All was silent for a moment. No one dared to speak as they stared at one another for a millisecond. However, when the millisecond was over, Dejun dashed down the street past the officer and Mr. Bell, who both yelled at his fleeing form. Citizens from behind let out loud yells and followed after him, desperate to catch the sick rat that slept with other male rats. 

“Take him to the gallows!” someone bellowed from behind. 

It didn’t take long for a large crowd to form in the chase. All screaming obscenities at him as he fled, tears pricking to his own eyes because he knew, once they caught up to him, he would be beaten harshly and left for dead until the officers drug his body away to the gallows at the center of town where he would sob as a noose was wrapped around his neck as he stood on a bucket. The crowd would cheer and yell and mock him as he sobbed and prayed to whatever non-existent being was out there, begging for mercy that wouldn’t come. The bucket would be kicked from his feet and he’d dangle by his neck, choking and desperate as the rope burned his poor skin. Eventually, death would claim his body and he’d be thrown in a shallow grave with the rest of the poor, family-less souls with no one left to care about them. 

Maybe dying would be easier than living...

… But he didn’t want to die. 

~

Dejun was a small male. He had short legs and barely stood at 167 cm (5’6”) and he was as thin as a rail from lack of nourishment. He shouldn’t have been able to run as fast as he was, evading the crowd of angry townsfolk through the filthy streets of London, but he was. 

Adrenaline and his will to survive kept the noose off his neck, but he could already feel his body running low on stored energy. His legs burned as he pushed on, his stomach flipped emptily. His breath was ragged and panted as he moved. His feet would stop moving eventually, and then, he’d depend on his ability to hide in the dark streets lit only by the moon and a few flaming lanterns on the streets. 

He knew the streets better than the angry mob still screaming after him, but that wouldn’t help him if he trapped himself on a street and they closed in. 

He ran down another open street. At this rate, he was getting nowhere fast. Any more running and he may as well throw himself to the mercy of the unforgiving mob. 

As his heart hammered in his ear, he caught sight of a glowing light in the distance. He squinted as he ran toward it on instinct, although he had a sinking feeling it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to go. 

As usual, instinct was right. As he ran closer, weaving in between streets, he noticed the loud mob had died back in sound as he lost them in the streets. Hope filled his chest that maybe he’d get away. They’d find him again if he didn’t hide, however.

He hadn’t paid any attention at first until his feet hit the uncracked sidewalk of Wong Manor. The one place everyone knew better than to visit. 

Wong Manor was a large Victorian house with painted gray walls and a high, rolling roof that was always reshingled every second year. There were balconies all along the second and third story and so many windows Dejun couldn’t count them all. There was a small porch leading to the grand front door, two large, lion statues on both sides of the porch. 

The house was beautiful. Elegant. Perfect. And worth more than Dejun’s whole life. Worth more than any of the lives of the angry mobsters that had been chasing him. 

The house was owned by Kunhang Wong and his older sister, Joonah Wong, two members of the Wong family, also known as one of the richest families in China. 

With that title came more respect than Dejun knew how to give. More respect than the dirty and nearly uncivilized mob still on their dirty streets knew how to give. 

His heartbeat hammered in his chest louder. His appearance was ghastly. Dressed in a much too large brown stained shirt and pants that he had to hold up on his hips; he was in no such state to greet a man of such wealth and status. 

But it was either Kunhang or go back into the city where the mob was likely still looking.

He slowly walked up the five steps of the cement porch, gulping as he moved forward slowly and reached a hand up to carefully grasp the silver knocker elegantly painted.

He lifted the knocker and let it fall from his grasp back onto the door, a strangely loud knock resound through the house. 

Then he waited. Breath bated as he heard a stir within the house. Whatever was about to happen, he couldn’t take it back now. All he could do was wait and see what lay ahead. Maybe Kunhang Wong wouldn’t send him away or think him so disgusting he’d never allow him entrance into his home. 

The door opened to reveal the beauty that was gentleman. 

Kunhang was a young male, probably around Dejun’s age, with slightly long, black hair, a porcelain face laiden with a chin so sharp it could put broken glass to shame. He had the most piercing friendly eyes Dejun had ever seen. He stood only a little taller than Dejun and was dressed in a pair of fitting slacks, white shirt, with an opened blue coat loosely hanging off his shoulders. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, eying Dejun’s body curiously. 

Dejun felt no judgment or disgust as he was expecting from such a high class gentleman. 

“T-there’s an angry mob trying to kill me…” he stammered breathlessly, chest heaving although he wasn’t sure it was entirely from running. 

“Do you need a place to stay?” he asked. 

Dejun nodded slowly, shame coursing through him now. No doubt, Kunhang would ask him about the mob and he’d have to tell him. Granted, he could always hide the truth, but it would likely come back to bite him in the end. He’d rather get thrown out now than wait and get thrown out at an even less convenient time.

Kunhang opened the door wider for Dejun’s entrance. Dejun let out a sigh of relief as he stepped through the threshold. Kunhang closed the door upon entrance and when Dejun’s eyes fell on the mahogany stained and polished hardwood floor, he gaped. He was filthy, covered in dirt a grime from months living around town without a decent bath to wash away the filth. He was sure if he moved, he’d get the entire house covered in dirt. He couldn’t do that to such a man, kind enough to let him in his house. 

Kunhang seemed to be thinking the same thing. When Dejun’s eyes traveled to the male’s, he found his host eying Dejun’s attire and then the house itself. He was like a filthy dog someone decided to let inside on a rainy day. Just like the dog, Dejun would be thrown back out in the weather shortly. 

“Why don’t we… get you cleaned up… my sister just cleaned and… she’d be very irritated if she had to… clean again…” his words tumbled out awkwardly, but Dejun didn’t mind. It was so much better than being left alone to die in the streets of London. 

“Right, come with me, I’ll show you to the washroom, although I can’t promise you a very warm bath.”

With that, Kunhang turned on his heel and made his way up the first flight of stairs, Dejun close behind. Once they’d reached the second floor landing, Kunhang lead him down a hallway until they reached the first door on the left, a white door with a golden handle. The host pushed open the door and stepped through, holding the lantern light high to reveal a state of the art washroom. Porcelain wash bin on the far wall, tub long and deep, a golden water spout hanging over the edge to empty water into the basin. A drain stopper on a chain at the bottom of the tub to hold in water until the bather was finished. Along the left wall was a large metal rack of fluffy towels and clothes. Materials no doubt flown in from somewhere else in the world. 

“I trust you know how to use a bath… I’ll bring you some clothes to wear for the time being…” Kunhang muttered. 

With that, he left the room, leaving the lantern inside for Dejun. Said male looked around the room. The walls were a faded pink with flower pleated designs. Beautiful. He almost felt unworthy of bathing in such a nice room. The promise of refreshing water to clean his filthy skin was enough to get him stripping from his clothes and stepping into the tub before filling it. 

He turned on the tub spout and let out a sigh as warmed water spilled viciously into the porcelain walls. He lowered himself into the filling water and groaned happily in the sweet relief of dirt rolling off his body in waves of released stress. 

Clearly, he had not had a bath in a long, long time. 

The water turned brown as he scrubbed the grime from his body. He used a cloth he’d found on the side of the tub and scrubbed himself so much the once white cloth turned dark brown.

~

After having a bath, Xiaojun quickly dried his now clean, but sore body with a towel. His skin ached from the scrubbing, he felt as though he’d scrubbed off an extra layer of skin, leaving himself slightly pink. 

He wrapped the fluffy white towel his host had given him and basked in the warmth. Kunhang had been correct. The water hadn’t been very warm, only slightly, but it was much better than attempting to wash in whatever disgusting water lay around Hyde Street. He’d never complain about clean water to wash away the ugly life he’d been living, a life he’d go back to when he figured out a way to get past the mob. 

Halfway through his bath, Kunhang had knocked on the door to inform him that a new set of clothes had been laid on a stool by the door. He’d dress in them and likely throw out his tattered ones. But as he thought about the poor excuse for clothing he’d arrived with, horror struck through his brain. 

The pants he’d been wearing had many holes in them. If anything in them was jostled even a little, anything in the pocket would fall out. This hadn’t been on his mind when he was running for his life, but now as he was able to take stock of his belongings, it hit him. 

He grabbed the flimsy pair of pants he’d been wearing for too long and felt around in the pockets. He’d had ten coins there. Ten coins that he would use to buy the cake he so desired. He pulled two coins out of the pocket. 

His heart beat loudly before a sudden pain struck through him bringing tears to his eyes. The only thing he had wanted was this one thing. One cake. One birthday celebration. For one day, he wanted something to be about him even if he was the only one to enjoy the cake. This just further proved that he was a waste of life. Even his parents knew that before throwing him away.

He placed the two coins on the sink and opened the door with a crack. As promised, Kunhang had placed a neatly folded pair of brown slacks and a white cotton shirt on the stool. As he pulled on the garments, he found them already a hundred times better than his previous drab. 

He slipped the remaining coins into the pocket of the slacks and wiped his eyes on the towel all though it did nothing to ease the dull throbbing in his chest or the worthlessness in the back of his head. 

Dejun picked up the lantern Kunhang had left for him on the sink. What little sunlight still pervaded through the bathroom window was gone now, leaving him in the darkness of dusk, the moment before the moonlight brightened the cooling earth with a much gentler radiance than the sun. 

As he opened the door, he brightened the lantern to see. The house was completely unfamiliar, not like any house he’d ever been in while performing his services, nor was it anything like the mud covered brothel. 

His bare feet hit the smooth hallway flooring, drawing a sigh from his lips as he made his way in the direction he remembered coming from. The grand staircase wasn’t far to reach from the bathroom, but in the dark, it had snuck up on him, his first foot stepping down so suddenly he’d flinched and almost caused his body to tumble down the steps and surely break more than a few bones. He was lucky his hand had gripped the railing in time.

As he entered the front room, his nose caught what could only be a stew brewing over a fire. His stomach grumbled hungrily, but his appetite and will to eat had been deplenished by the realization that, once again, there would be no cake to celebrate his birthday. 

He wiped his eyes again on the palms of his hands, but the tears continued to trickle out until he caught Kunhang’s attention and guilt churned in his stomach. 

Kunhang had been so kind to give him clothes, a bath, and a place to stay for the evening, now he was taking care to ask why Dejun came out crying. He really was worthless and weak, he couldn’t even hide his emotions from the one person that had been kind to him without the desire for his body.

The male led Dejun over to the couch, where the now clean boy could sit freely, and it was there that Dejun told him everything, leaning against him and letting the tears pour out in choked sobs.

~

It took Dejun a while to explain everything to Kunhang, even explaining in a roundabout way what exactly his job was and thus explaining the mob, but he saw no repulsion in the other’s actions. Actually, he found nothing in the male’s eyes but unexplainable sorrow and understanding, but no pity.

Maybe the way the male looked at him was the reason Dejun’s heart suddenly began to stir the same way it had a year ago when Lucas, a tall but goofy man had offered him a place to stay for a few days in return for Dejun’s services. Only this time, Dejun didn’t believe Kunhang was going to be run out of town in the middle of the night.

“Come on, I think dinner is ready,” Kunhang encouraged. 

He unraveled his arm from around Dejun to get up, although it took Dejun a moment to follow. He hadn’t eaten in several days and his stomach grumbled hungrily, but the taste of his tears and the sheer disappointment in his latest discovery kept him on the couch, hoping to possibly waste away in the night if he didn’t eat. 

It was Kunhang’s encouraging smile and the hunger pains that eventually got him off the couch and into the kitchen where he shoveled spoonful after spoonful of stew sloppily into his mouth. 

~

Throughout the course of dinner and Dejun finally filling his stomach, the two got to know each other a little better and Dejun opened up fully about the reason he was being chased. After talking to Kunhang for just a little bit, Dejun came to realize that Kunhang, the most popular bachelor in London, the man that all the men in town brought their daughters to, held no resentment toward Dejun for what he did and also, understood it. Maybe he couldn’t identify with Dejun’s money problems and his raising, he had no idea what it was like to sleep with different old, nasty men for their money just for a place to live and a bit of food, but even though he’d never come out and said it, Dejun knew he identified with him on the other level. The level of liking a gender he shouldn’t. As he watched the male’s facial expressions as they spoke, Dejun knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kunhang was not, nor had ever been, the type of person to marry a woman. And that made hiding with the wealthy man that much more appealing, especially if his own rapidly beating heart was an indication on how much he enjoyed learning about the attractive man.

After having a wonderful dinner and conversation with the man that Dejun could feel himself slowly growing attracted to, the two retired to the couch for a bit. It was that moment on the couch that Dejun got the inkling that just maybe, Kunhang had an attraction to him as well.

The male wrapped an arm around Dejun’s shoulders. It was innocent at first, but that gentle gesture turned into a slight tugging at Dejun’s shoulders until he was resting in the space of Kunhang’s armpit. His shoulder nestled snugly there, almost as though he were a puzzle piece that fit perfectly there, as cliche as it was to think about. 

“There are a few spare bedrooms you can sleep in tonight although none of them are completely finished. They have beds, but any one of the rooms could do with more paint and decor,” Kunhang mumbled after a few moments of comfortable silence.

Dejun shuffled slightly against him and found the nerve to rest his head on the male’s shoulder. 

“I don’t need fancy things. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything but dirty blankets on the floor,” he admitted. 

Kunhang’s arm slipped down around Dejun’s waist, giving it a small squeeze. 

“I can certainly promise a bed.”

Dejun smiled softly in the dim candle light around the sitting room. Usually at this time of night, he’d be wolfing down whatever he’d been able to buy with whatever was left from his money. Then he’d be settling into his ratty little cot in the back of the brothel with the other girls. He’d fall asleep and rise early to go out in search of any man who would like to take him in for the day. Sometimes, he’d end up in the man's bed all day, other times he’d be back on the streets by afternoon and have enough money to buy a bit of lunch if he’d been paid generously. After lunch, he’d be back out searching for someone else, although, there weren’t many times he even found one person who was willing to break the law with him.

“What are you thinking about?” 

Kunhang’s words invaded his thoughts but brought a small smile to his lips. 

“My life.”

It was a simple answer, but he knew the impact that it would likely have on the male. 

Kunhang nodded but didn’t say anything else. Dejun didn’t expect him to. What was there to say when the male you’re snuggled up with was a gay prostitute that earned a tiny amount of money by selling his body to random strangers?

Dejun let out a quiet groan, his body slowly snuggling closer to Kunhang’s warmth as his eyes closed. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was, but he supposed it was to be expected. He’d had quite a busy day.

“Are you tired?” Kunhang asked quietly. 

The only answer Dejun could muster through another yawn was a small nod. Kunhang hummed and helped the smaller up off the couch. He picked up the candle torch being used to light the room and led Dejun back up the grand staircase and past the bathroom door. A few more doors down, Kunhang opened a similar white door with a golden handle and led Dejun inside. 

Although the room was now dimly lit with the light from the candle, Dejun could make out a small, four poster bed pressed against the center of the wall on the right. He couldn’t make out much more from the room besides the bed, but he’d have time to explore once light bled through the bedroom window in the morning. 

Kunhang led him to the bed and carefully pulled back the carefully made sheets and blankets before helping Dejun in and, although Dejun found it slightly unnecessary, he tucked the blankets back around the male, settling him in snugly. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Kunhang called as he left the room. 

The morning. Dejun’s birthday. Tears pricked to his eyes again. His one wish was so callously ripped away, and yet, he’d been given last year's wish. The wish to wake up in a warm bed with someone that at least pretended to care about him. 

~

The next morning, the sun was already up and had been up for a while. It was the first morning Dejun had ever slept in. He was usually always woken by Madam Ponseur, who was too money greedy to let anyone sleep past 6 am. If he wasn’t woken by her, he was woken by rain trickling in off the leaks in the roof and dripping onto his face. 

Needless to say, waking up snugly warm in bed, with his eyes feeling refreshed and his stomach not painfully growling for food was a large change, and, for a moment, he stopped himself to be sure yesterday hadn’t been a beautiful dream. 

Then again, if it were a dream, he’d have woken up to a cake, or better yet, woken up with so many people gathered around him giving him hugs and wishing him a happy birthday. 

Waking up in a nice warm bed was nice enough though. He’d take what he could get and if this was what he’d get for his birthday, he wasn’t going to complain. 

He laid in bed for a few more minutes, basking in the warmth and hoping against hope that maybe, Kunhang wouldn’t throw him out by the afternoon. Maybe he’d get to spend one full day in the beautiful house of the kindly generous man who’d taken him in before he’d been nabbed by the mob. 

Once he’d decided to get out of bed, he swung his legs over the side and climbed out, feeting hitting floor quietly as he padded out of the room and down the hallway. 

With the light of the day, it wasn’t difficult for Dejun to navigate. Although the house was huge, it also had a vastly simple layout. Straight one way past the bathroom door was the grand staircase that would lead him into the main room and then into the kitchen. The opposite direction led deeper into the house, likely to Kunhang’s bedroom. 

Dejun walked down the staircase. As he reached the bottom, he could already hear Kunhang in the kitchen, so he made his way into the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. 

Kunhang gave him a bright smile. A smile so bright it had surprised Dejun for a small second, but he supposed the male was just a morning person. 

“I have something to show you!” he declared. 

Dejun groaned in response and stretched his arms above his head. Maybe he wasn’t as awake as he’d felt earlier. 

“Come on! You’re going to want to see it!” Kunhang insisted. 

Dejun just nodded in response and let Kunhang lead him to wherever this surprise was going to be. To his surprise, he led him to the kitchen table where a cylindrical box sat. 

“Close your eyes!” Kunhang insisted. 

Dejun rolled his eyes at the cheesy order but complied, placing his hand over his eyes to fight the urge to peak. He was a peaker. 

He heard Hendery shuffle around and then what sounded like a lid lifting off a box.

When he was given the orders to look, Dejun opened his eyes and gaped, eyes filling with tears almost instantly as he gazed at the beautiful gift on the table. The one thing he’d wanted more than anything.

It was a cake. A small, beautiful yellow cake painted white with purple and blue designs. The perfect cake. A beautiful cake. 

“Oh my God!” Dejun cried, burying his face in his hands. 

“I’m sorry, don’t you like it? I can take it back and get you another,” Kunhang said, voice full of dejection.

“No! Don’t take it back, I love it! I just… wasn’t expecting this!” Dejun said, eyes still brimming with tears but a bright smile on his face. 

“My first birthday cake I…” 

He threw his arms around Kunhang’s neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Although it took Kunhang a moment to hug back, he did, wrapping his arms tightly around the male, keeping him close.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered in the male's ear. 

Dejun let his tears soak into Kunhang’s shirt, feeling only a little guilty for staining the fabric of the beyond generous male. 

“You didn’t have to,” he mumbled. 

A hand came up to stroke Dejun’s back. 

“I wanted to.”

Dejun moved to look up at Kunhang, eyes shining with tears. 

“This is the best birthday ever,” he whispered. 

Kunhang met his gaze and Dejun tightened his grip on the taller. When he’d been running from the mob, he hadn’t been expecting to meet the richest man in England. Nor had he expected to end up in his arms with a birthday cake on the table and the strongest urge to kiss the male that made it happen. 

Kunhang seemed to read his mind. He dipped his head down, moving slowly as if not to spook Dejun, but Dejun wasn’t going anywhere. He let his hands trail back up to wrap around Kunhang’s neck, giving him the leverage he needed to pull the male closer until their lips eventually met in a soft kiss. 

Although Dejun had only been expecting a peck, something seemed to wake up inside the taller. He pulled Dejun even closer and kept one hand around his waist while the other cupped Dejun’s jaw and pulled him into a deeper kiss. 

Somewhere in the back of Dejun’s mind, he heard a door open faintly. He thought he may have even heard footsteps. But he was too entranced in the lips moving deeply against his own to pay too much attention. 

That is, until his attention was grabbed by a female voice he didn’t recognize. 

“Well this is a new development.”

Dejun broke away immediately and fear spiked through him. They were two guys kissing. Kissing in the middle of a kitchen. Kissing in London, England where people were constantly beaten and hanged for anything of that nature. 

He quickly moved away from Kunhang and turned to stare at the girl that had entered without their knowledge. 

She was wearing heels that made her taller than Dejun although, he was sure if she weren’t the girl would probably be his height. She wore a long hoop dress with her hair cascading down her shoulders. He recognized her almost immediately, even though he’d never met her. 

Joonah Wong. Kunhang’s elder sister. 

Fear flashed across Dejun’s face. If news got out that he was kissing a man of Kunhang’s status, he’d be more than hanged. He’d get tortured. They’d likely dismember him while he was still alive and awake to hear him scream. 

“Good morning sis, why didn’t you come home last night?” Kunhang asked casually. 

Kunhang walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her loosely. 

Why didn’t he seem the least bit worried? If she turned them in, he’d get hanged too… Unless, of course, he claims that Dejun came onto him… But Kunhang wouldn’t do that… right?

“Virginia and I stayed at her small cottage. Her family weren’t there,” the woman's eyes danced mischievously in the light. 

She pulled away from Kunhang a moment later and let her eyes trail to Dejun, a kind smile on her lips. The smile did little to soothe Dejun. Mr. Bell had a kind smile and he had ratted Dejun out. 

“Who’s your friend?”

Kunhang turned to look at Dejun, the comforting smile quickly replaced by worry. 

“This is Dejun. Dejun, are you ok?” he asked. 

He opened his arm to welcome the male to his side but Dejun backed himself against the kitchen wall, terrified. 

Both stared at him in confusion for a moment before the girl seemed to understand. 

“It’s ok Dejun, I’m not going to turn you in, I promise,” she appeased. 

He stared at her warily. Why wouldn’t she? He’d broken the law. 

“I really won’t. If I did, I may as well turn myself in,” she continued. 

This made absolutely no sense to Dejun. What could she have done wrong? He and Kunhang were the ones breaking the law. 

“What do you mean?” his voice was weak. 

“Because she has a girlfriend,” Kunhang answered for her, finally crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Dejun’s small frame.

Dejun let the worry drop out of his shoulders as he leaned against Kunhang. He didn’t fully trust this girl, but now, if she turned him in, he could do the same to her. Assuming he’d get the balls to do something like that. He already knew he wouldn’t, but the idea was appeasing. 

“Really?” he asked. 

The girl nodded, a small smile resting on her face. 

“Her name’s Virginia. I was with her last night.”

So that was why the girl hadn't been home the night before. It made sense now. 

Dejun nodded and let himself completely relax against Kunhang. 

“Now, why don’t you boys tell me how this happened,” she said. 

She kicked off her heels, pushing them by the door and sitting down at the table, only to stop and stare at the cake. 

“Who’s birthday?” she asked. 

“Dejun’s,” Kunghang spoke, a smile on his face as he looked back to Dejun.

It sounded so weird having someone else acknowledge his birthday. 

“Oh! Well why aren’t there any candles in it! We need to light it and sing and let him make a wish!” Joonah exclaimed. 

Dejun blushed lightly. 

“I don’t need all of that,” he spoke. 

“Nonsense!” Joonah cut in. 

She jumped up from her seat and waltzed across the kitchen. She wrenched open a drawer and pulled out three, unused candles that Dejun assumed was in a pack for their own birthdays. 

Kunhang pulled the box of matches out of his pocket and as Joonah placed the candles in the cake, Kunhang lit them. Once they were all lit, Kunhang beckoned him over. 

“Happy birthday Dejun,” He spoke softly in his ear. 

The smile grew brighter as Joonah reciprocated the same message. 

Never in his life had anyone wished Dejun a happy birthday. Now he had two people wishing it and singing the common birthday song. It brought tears again to Dejun’s eyes but he refused to let them fall. 

Once the song was finished, Dejun moved closer to the table, leaning against it and hovering over the cake. He closed his eyes to make a wish, but the issue was, for once in his life, he had nothing to wish for. 

He’d woken up in a bed. He’d gotten a cake for the first time. A beautiful boy he actually had feelings for had kissed him. Two people had wished him a happy birthday and sang the song for him. There was only one more thing that could make this day even better. 

‘I wish to stay here in this house with Joonah and Kunhang and to be Kunhang’s boyfriend.’

Technically it was two wishes. He hoped he’d get them. But if not, he’d be happy with the wonderful way the day was turning out so far. 

With a puff of air, he blew out the candles and the two around him clapped happily, Kunhang rubbing a hand down Dejun’s back. 

A single tear glistened down Dejun’s face as he watched Joonah pull three plates out of a cupboard and place them on the table. 

~

The cake turned out to be as delicious as Dejun had imagined, but after 3 slices, Joonah made him save the last half for the evening. She’d placed it on the counter and promised they’d have the rest for dessert after dinner. 

That statement alone told him that he’d at least get to spend the day and possibly another night with the two, although he wasn’t very hopeful for anything else. He’d enjoy what he could for as long as he could. 

He’d opened the packaged gifts that Kunhang had gotten, not expecting a cake and presents. He became surprised as the few outfits landed in his lap. 

“You can’t wear my things forever. These are more tailored to fit you and if they don’t fit exactly, we’ll take them back to the tailor and get them fit exactly!” Kunhang said. 

Although it sounded as something so simple. Something quick to say without thinking, it hit Dejun hard. 

“Does that mean… that you want me to stay?” he asked. 

Kunhang smiled although Dejun could see the way his ears reddened. 

“Only if you want to.”

One more wish come true. 

Dejun threw himself against the male, burying his face in his chest. 

“Of course I want to stay!” his words were muffled but he knew Kunhang had heard him. 

He settled his arms around Dejun’s waist, pulling him closer. Dejun looked up again into Kunhang’s face and found himself again being drawn to the male’s lips. 

Kunhang’s lips settled over his own gently, moving slowly and sweetly against him. Dejun loved the taste of him. The subtle hint of birthday cake mixed with something that Dejun couldn’t identify, because it was a flavor that solely belonged to Kunhang, and Dejun would love to get to know it.

When Kunhang pulled away, he stroked his thumb along Dejun’s cheek. 

“I’ve only known you for a day, so I can’t tell you that I love you. I can, however, tell you that I’m drawn to you. You’re so beautiful. So adorable. So sweet. You’ve had such a hard life and I want to be the one that stops that,” he began. 

Dejun took a deep breath. Anything could happen with this. But strangely, he wasn’t worried. 

“Anything can happen. I can’t tell you that you and I will be together forever. Especially since we’re doomed to be in a time that doesn’t allow us to be. But… Even if you say no or even if we break up, I always want to be there to give you the life you deserve.”

Kunhang paused again and Dejun looked into his eyes, already knowing where it was going. 

“Would you be my boyfriend?” he asked. 

Although Dejun knew where it was going, the knowledge did nothing to quell the way his heart swelled happily. 

“Yes,” he replied, capturing Kunhang’s lips again. 

Epilogue

Kunhang and Dejun were together for five years before Kunhang’s father demanded to know the reason his son refused to take a wife. Not having the guts to lie to his father anymore than he already had, he sent a letter home detailing his crimes. 

Once the letter was sent, he gathered his belongings with his boyfriend, sister, and Virginia Maud, who had come to live with them three years earlier. Together, the four planned to leave London where they knew their father would be coming for them, to punish them all. Kunhang knew that couldn’t happen. His father would likely force Kunhang and his sister into a marriage he approved of before sending Virginia and Dejun to be hanged, or more likely, his father would torture and kill them both, a crime that would be overlooked when the truth came out. 

Kunhang couldn’t let anything happen to his family, so after essential belongings and a few sets of clothing were safely out of the house, Kunhang torched it. 

As smoke billowed toward the sky, the four escaped to the docks, where they paid a man by the name of Johnny Suh to sail them across the seas to Germany, where they’d hoped to find refuge and understanding. 

The trip was to take 30 days to accomplish. 30 days where they would safely be out of the clutches of a father that would take the law into his own hands. 

23 days in, a large storm, rolled across the waters. Larger than the several they’d faced in the last few days. Johnny kept the sails set for Germany despite the crashing waves. Unfortunately, the small sailboat was no match for 40 foot waves, 

The first tragedy came when a wave crashed onto the deck, sending Joonah tumbling into the water. The girl, incapable of swimming, didn’t stand a chance. 

Kunhang fished her out of the water, but too much time had passed as she laid there motionless in her brother's arms. 

The second tragedy came when another wave crashed onto the ship, this time, causing the ship to capsize. Kunhang had been trapped beneath the boards, unable to escape as objects crashed around him. Dejun somehow managed to pull his love from the sinking treasures aboard. 

When Kunhang broke the surface, no one surrounded him. 

He tried desperately to find Virginia and Dejun, but to no avail. With a tortured heart, he climbed aboard a floating crate and there he floated until another ship sailing to France picked him up out of the water. 

~

Kunhang finally settled in a small house in Paris where he decided to live alone, free from his family, but also free from his love. 

It was a year after the crash when three bodies were recovered from the wreckage. One male still remained, and some presumed the fourth male was somehow still alive. 

This was something Kunhang never believed. At least, not until years later when he’d sailed across the ocean to Thailand for a vacation of sorts. 

It was while he was perusing the market in Bangkok when he saw a very family man standing behind a fruit stand. 

“Dejun?” he asked. 

The male turned to the voice he hadn’t heard in so many years and tears gathered in his eyes. 

“It’s me Kunhang!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will possibly be adding onto this, but for now, it is finished. Make sure to check for updates, however!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!


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